Lucky
by ayafangirl
Summary: Grell is lucky to have met William...a purely fan-made story of how the crazy redhead came to be a Reaper. rated for violence. GrellxWilliam.


_A/N: yaaay! more kuroshitsuji grellxwill goodness! this story is not necesarily accurtate, but it's FANFICTION people. they don't fully explain the role of Shinigami in Kuroshitsuji, so i'm combining their details with those of Bleach and a bit of Death Note, sorry if it's not correct._

_My main idea is that souls are Reaped as the human is dying, and select lives are destined to change into those of the Death Gods. so here we go!_

_Disclaimer: it all goes to Toboso Yana. I guess i own the characters lucas and charles...but you can have them._

Somewhere in the center of London, a clock struck midnight. It reached the ears of four beings on the snowy outskirts only faintly. Three of those beings didn't seem to notice. Aged 21 and 24, Lucas and Charles Harper were enjoying the delightfully drawn-out murder of Grell Sutcliffe, aged 22. The brothers were predominant figures in town and had been angered when the town's own gender-confused young man had befriended their little sister. Although he seemed to have no interest in her beyond that of friendship, little Ella had spoken dreamily of the long-haired effeminate asking her hand in marriage when she came of age.

Needless to say, Lucas and Charles did not take kindly to such detestable men seducing their sweet little sister. So they had coaxed the strange-looking bachelor out of town with them and, as they were both already drunk when he arrived in their hands nearly half and hour prior to the chiming of the clock, they had pounced like wolves on red meat, beating him senseless.

And so, half an hour later, the fourth being who had sat there watching them sighed; this was nowhere near completion. After the first few kicks and punches, it had become more of a need to draw blood than to protect their sister.

"Listen to the sound, Lucas—hey—save some of that for me!" snapped the older of the two brothers glaring as more of their precious beer and whiskey was downed. "Anyway, listen to the sound." With that, he kicked Grell in the mouth with all his strength. Aside from a muffled scream, there was a clicking sound as several teeth were torn out of his gum line. Laying face-up in the snow, he lurched to the side to spit out a mouthful of blood and teeth, tears falling down his face.

"Please stop, Master Harper, please…" long red hair fell around him like a curtain and his brilliant green eyes were unfocused behind shattered lenses. Grabbing a handful of the scarlet tresses, Charles sneered.

"Shut up, fag. The likes of you don't deserve to live. Why don't we finish what we started, Lucas? Bring Sutcliffe our present we brought him."

The younger of the two matched his devious grin and pulled from a small bag a mallet of sorts. It wasn't too big but its possibilities were still limitless. "Let me hit first. Hm, let me see…"

"I meant your family no harm; I don't see why you do this! Please stop! Please!" Grell fell into a pitiful array of sobs as one brother held him down by the shoulders and the other swung rather curiously at one kneecap, smiling as it clicked out of place under the strength of his weapon. Grell screamed in agony, head tilting back and blood slipping out past his lips. The older brother shoved his arm roughly over the redhead's mouth to muffle his screams. Lucas continued to swing the mallet, seeing if he could shatter the bones in the bespectacled man's shins and seeing as he couldn't moving up to crack several ribs instead. There was then a crunch as his phalanges were shattered as the weapon swung down over his hand.

The stranger watching this closed his eyes although he couldn't close his ears to the sound of Grell's screams. Glancing at his pocket watch, he was angered to find it was only a few minutes after midnight. Why was time moving so slowly? He had figured it was good he had been ahead of schedule…he could come early and be prepared to get the job done…

His pale eyes moved up reluctantly to find both brothers had returned to kicking the redhead; Lucas in his stomach and newly broken ribs and Charles in his face, smashing his nose and sending blood pouring down his lips and temples and mixing with fresh tears.

Slowly, the stranger rose. Grell's eyes were shut tight but re-opened when he heard two gasps of shock. Across his limp body and between both men was a long metallic rod with a pair of razor-sharp pincers at the end. Emerald orbs turned meekly to face a tall man cloaked in shadows and hiding back from the light of the lantern. The brothers leaped back from Grell and the weapon retracted as quickly as it had come, folding into itself and becoming about six feet in length.

"I think it's safe to say you've had your fun here," the stranger spoke calmly. "Now get out of here or I will mutilate you both until you wish you looked like this man here."

With screams of terror, Lucas and Charles took off, leaving the stranger looming over the redhead.

"Wh-who are you?" he whispered through blood. His voice shook in pain and newfound terror.

"My name is William T. Spears. I am a Reaper, Grell Sutcliffe. I'm here to reap your soul and send you into eternal rest."

"You…can end this pain?" he asked, staring in shock. The Reaper stepped forward and the redhead could make out his features. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and short dark hair. His eyes were a pale green and seemed to penetrate Grell, as though looking for his soul so he could rip it out.

"That is my duty. You still have…a little while left on Earth though, I'm afraid. Would you like you say your goodbyes?"

"No. Please just kill me." He answered sincerely, smiling (although the smile was hard for William to make out through the blood that poured out from his smashed nose and bruised flesh).

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? There's no going back."

"Please, go ahead. Thank you, Reaper." His eyes sparkled in relief and the flow of tears was ceasing. He seemed truly happy that the Death God was going to kill him. "I just want this pain to end. Life is too hard…"

There was a click as William extended his scythe and held the blade-like end over the human's neck hesitantly. "I'm so lucky that I met you, Will."

"You're welcome. Goodbye, Grell Sutcliffe." With that, he swung down and slit the man's throat with ease. His eyes softened at the immediate calm that crossed the redhead's face as his body came detached from his soul, but something went wrong. "Wait…where is his Cinematic Record…?"

An icy hand with long sharp fingernails clamped down over his shoulder and the Reaper turned in shock to face an eerie smile. "Undertaker!"

"It's good to see you, Spears. What a nice catch tonight. Notice anything strange about him?"

"Why can't I see his Cinematic Record?" the brunette asked with annoyance evident in his tone.

"Obviously because there is none to be viewed, silly. And here I had thought you were clever. Tsk, tsk."

"What do you mean, no Cinema—" a pointy black nail covered his lips and sent chills up his spine.

"His humanity has ended now thanks to you, but this is one of the lucky humans selected to become one of us. A Reaper, my dear William."

Pale eyes grew wide and the gray-haired man chuckled. "Don't tell me you never reaped a human who was preordained to become a Death God? Well it's a lot of fun so please join me in watching this unfold."

With that, he knelt beside the fresh corpse and stroked the redhead's pale cheek. "I can't wait to see you on the other side, Grell Sutcliffe." With that, there was a blinding flash of light and when William finally opened his eyes, he was beside the Undertaker in the Death God realm. "Well then," he smiled. "Let the transformation begin!"

The Reaper watched in shock as the body of his victim began to heal. The wounds closed up and his bones re-aligned. Finally, the slit in his throat— the fatal blow— healed, but right against the center of his jugular remained a mark shaped like a skull. "Your handiwork," Undertaker explained to the brunette who watched wide-eyed.

The teeth, broken and loose grew back out of Grell's mouth and sharpened until they looked like shark's teeth. His mouth widened and his red hair grew even brighter red until it was the color of the blood he was bathed in. With the mark on his neck subduing and standing out less against his skin, his eyes, more vibrant than ever, opened.

"Hello, there," giggled Undertaker. Grell sat up, focusing on the long-haired man before him.

"Hello," he repeated. His voice was stronger than when he had begged for death; William could now hear the rich tone to it. "Who are you and where am I?"

"You are in the realm of the gods of death. Upon your death, you were chosen to be recruited as Reaper. I am the Undertaker, a Reaper who works in the world of the living."

"Oh," for some reason this didn't seem overwhelming to him at all. "I'm a Reaper?"

"Yes. Oh, I almost forgot!" laughing maniacally, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a scythe. It looked just like the kind the Grim Reaper was always portrayed with…much simpler than the kind William possessed. "After you reap your first soul, you will be entitled to personalize your scythe as you wish. Until then you must work with this and the Head of Directors from the London Division should be here soon to debrief you and prepare you for training." He patted the new Reaper's head and smiled.

Grell nodded mechanically. "I understand. Thank you, Undertaker."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must be going," he continued to smile, steering William away with one hand. "Oh and one last thing…do you know who this is?" he pointed at the brunette.

Emerald orbs studied him with utter concentration for a moment and William stared back, wondering how he could look so confused when they had just met. "You look…familiar, but I can't place a name…or when we met." He finally answered.

Undertaker found this funny (as he seemed to find many things including climbing into coffins) and smiled. "Good enough. I hope to see you again soon, little Reaper. Until then!" he waved and left the room.

As he had expected, he was immediately bombarded with questions. "Why can't he remember me? Why isn't he terrified? What did you—?"

"My, my, my. Aren't you the curious one? You convert one Death God and suddenly you want to be all-knowing. Even I don't know all the workings of the gods of death I'm afraid. But let me explain to you what I can.

"For now, our little Sutcliffe's memories of his human life are a bit fuzzy. As he develops as a Reaper and learns the way of we who are unto God, his memories will become clear again and he will remember who he was. This should happen within a month or two. He will not however, remember his death or rather his murder."

"He said I looked familiar," the smaller Reaper argued.

"But he couldn't place who you were…although he will be able to if you ever choose to reveal your death-scythe to him."

"My scythe?"

"Yes. It was, after all, the weapon that killed and transformed him. Do you know who your killer was?"

The bespectacled man shook his head. "Ah, so the Reaper who killed you never showed you his scythe then. That's understandable since there are so many gods of death here in London. But perhaps one day you two can bridge the gaps of his memory, huh?"

Pushing his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose, William shrugged. "That means nothing to me," he answered. "Only what is required of my Division is important."

A knowing smirk crossed the Undertaker's face. "Oh? What a nonchalant thing to say…but is it true?"

The green-eyed man raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Undertaker?"

"Grell Sutcliffe was executed at twelve and thirteen minutes in the morning. He was scheduled to die at one and thirty three minutes that same morning after bleeding out and freezing to death. Can't your pity be considered an infringement on the law of the Death Gods? Sure it's so fractional it will be overlooked…but you let your heart sully your perfect record, William dear."

Pale eyes widened. "I…I.."

"You can't tell me you didn't think I would notice? Or did you just overlook it yourself? You are just too cute, my friend." With that, Undertaker took off, black cloth trailing off his hat behind him.

William's fists clenched. "Damn that man," he muttered of the gray-haired Reaper.

XXX

What a long, boring day indeed. Time had passed since the passing of Grell into a Reaper, and in that time, William had moved up several ranks. He was hard-working and focused and well-liked by Death Gods centuries older than him. He had just come out of a meeting which had lasted several hours and felt stiff. Shrugging his shoulders as he made his way down the hall, a loud, high voice suddenly broke the mundane quiet around the few shinigami around.

"Wiiiiiill!" the brunette turned just in time to be hit full-force by a flash of red. There were only two other Reapers in the hallway, and both of them stared. Embarrassed, William pushed the redhead down.

"Sh! Grell, you're making a scene." He scolded.

The smaller man pouted. In the time since becoming a god of death his hair had grown even more. It was down to his thighs and his bangs stuck out around his face at random angles. His old glasses had been traded in for thicker-lensed ones with skulls on the chain that secured them around his neck. Behind them, his emerald orbs glimmered with energy. "Hmph, how rude, Will. You must have had a long, hard day to be talking to a young lady like that!"

Sighing, the taller man nodded and led the redhead to the stairs with him. They descended two flights in silence. Predictably, Grell broke it. "Hey…William?" it was the first time he had used his friend's given name which he preferred, and pale green eyes shifted to him. "Are you okay? You look tense."

"I just have a lot of responsibilities to carry out now that I'm moving up in rank…it can be exhausting," he answered, doubting the effeminate shinigami could comprehend a longer answer.

"Oh. Well don't worry. If you ever get stressed, you know I'm here to help, right?" he asked sweetly, gloved hand stroking his superior's cheek soothingly.

"Yes, I know," he responded forcing a smile. He knew as well as the redhead that there was no help that could be given. "Thank you."

Not having expected such sincere words, Grell smiled and moved closer, resting his head on William's tense shoulder. They had reached the door to get out and go home, and no one else was around. After listening to clarify this, William paused. His arms slipped around the smaller man's back and pulled him close. He leaned down and kissed the redhead softly, slowly.

Grell kissed back eagerly, hands cupping his friend's chin and guiding their lips into each other, drawing out the feeling out as their bodies moved closer until the long-haired shinigami was pressed against the dark-haired one. They parted slowly, eyes opening before their lips were completely separated. Standing there for a moment in the stark silence, they poured a thousand different promises and emotions into each other through their eyes. Finally, Grell pulled away with a smile. "Heh…I'm so lucky I met you, Will."

A light blush came across William's cheeks at this. Of all things, he hadn't been expecting that from the generally loud and oftentimes perverted Reaper. Was he even aware…those were the same words he had spoken right before…

Of course Grell's memories had come back. He could remember the agony of living in the human realm as a human, and he had seen William's scythe as well. He knew that it was his own friend who had ended his life but did he remember his choice of words…?

"Hey, are you coming? I'm making sure you get home alright because you look so drained. And I think a shoulder rub is in order, Spears. And definitely an early bedtime tonight if I may say so myself—" the brunette smiled and quickened his pace to walk beside his friend. No…he didn't seem to recall that specific choice of words. He must have really meant them though. It wasn't everyday that you claimed to love your murderer…and prove it at every available moment.

Snaking one arm around the shorter man's waist, he allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his lips. "Will?" it was unusual for the brunette to display affection in public normally.

"Hm? Sorry, Grell. I can't help it." He smirked, "I'm just so weak, I need your support to get home."

"Oh! Of course, we're almost there! Do you want me to carry you there?"

"That won't be necessary," he answered, amused by his friend's gullible personality. "But thank you, I…you mean a lot to me. I'm also very lucky that I met you. Grell." The last word he said with a dark smile, his lips ghosting over the suddenly-blushing redhead's.

But why shouldn't he say it? It was the truth. Ever since meeting the bloody, dying human named Grell Sutcliffe, his life had become brighter. The smaller shinigami had become his shadow, his side kick, his best friend.

And lover?

Well some things just went without saying.

_Sorry if the descriptions aren't acurate, please review and tell me what you think!_


End file.
